


It's the Little Things

by misscassietaylor



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cute, Fluff, M/M, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-31
Updated: 2013-05-31
Packaged: 2017-12-13 12:44:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/824452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misscassietaylor/pseuds/misscassietaylor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the little things that make Sherlock look again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's the Little Things

**Author's Note:**

> Alternatively available on ff.net with the same name/username.

Sherlock's hands fell from the microscope knobs and his intent stare broke from the lens and fixed onto John. "John," he hissed through gritted teeth. "I'm trying to concentrate."  
John stopped tapping his foot and looked up from his laptop. "Sorry?" he questioned, tilting his head slowly.  
"Your noise. It's bothersome."   
John lifted an eyebrow. "Well, sorry," he murmured before tucking his feet below the chair and lowering his gaze to the laptop again.  
A few moments later, John lifted his gaze again. "Sherlock," he said, a warning tone surrounding his voice.  
"What, John," Sherlock grumbled in reply.  
"Stop that."  
"Stop what?"  
"Your hand. You keep tapping your nails." John said, a smirk wide across his lips.  
"So?"  
"So it's annoying and you should stop, please," John raised his chin and watched the other man who looked at him from his spot. Sherlock didn't say a word, but the tapping stopped.  
A few minutes later, Sherlock was glaring over at John who was typing away at his keyboard.   
"John."   
John's typing stopped and he looked up. "Yeah?" he said, tilting his chin up to see Sherlock again.  
"Desist from your raucous, if you would," Sherlock said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.  
John simply sighed and continued typing, not bothering to reply, but trying his best to lower the volume of his tapping which seemed to appease Sherlock for the time-being.  
What John didn't see, though, is the occasional glances to him in the chair by Sherlock. In fact, if one paid enough attention, they would notice that Sherlock wasn't the least bit engrossed in his project at the microscope, but more engrossed in the natural habits of his friend. The way he would chew his nails every now and again, or the small smile that would cross his lips for a couple seconds before vanishing again. Or maybe the way his foot started tapping once again, but this time, it didn't bother Sherlock, it only fascinated him more.  
About an hour later, John rose from his place on the chair. He hadn't moved at all within that hour and his neck had become stiff at craning his neck for the computer screen. He began rubbing at the muscle there but his hand was soon replaced by a more slender, cool hand, working intricately and almost experienced around John's shoulder and neck. John sighed and leaned his head forward, smiling, but also not quite yet realizing how odd the wanton situation was.  
They stayed like that a while, Sherlock looking down the back of John's neck, and John humming in approval at the work being done. Then John felt something different on his neck. Breath, then moist lips working at the sensitive skin.  
"Sherlock?" John asked, shyness in his voice.  
"Mmm?" Sherlock replied and the hot breath sent a shiver down John's spine.  
"W-what are you doing?" John asked, swearing at himself internally for the stutter  
"Surely you know the answer to that, John. You're not that dense." His voice was deep in John's ear.  
"I...why, then?" John asked, tilting his head back to look at Sherlock, who prevented this and forced John's head forward.  
"Are you enjoying it?"   
A defeated, yet content sigh."More than you realize."


End file.
